Little Lie, Big Lie
by Aislinn Cailin
Summary: Casey made one little mistake in planning out her pefect evening with Sam. Only problem was, she didn't know how big that little mistake could get. Derek & Casey.
1. Evening Disaster

**Little Lie, Big Lie**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**Chapter One: Evening Disaster**

The voices were driving her crazy. Laughter. Muffled talking. Music. Casey was _never _going to get her schoolwork done this way.

Not that she was particularly interested in schoolwork anyway. Not now, at least. She got up from her desk, quietly opening the door and tiptoeing to the edge of the railing near the staircase, where she got a clear view of the ground floor.

_Leave, Derek_, she thought bitterly. After all her hard work of making _sure _that Mom, George, Lizzie, Edwin and Marti would be out of the house this Friday night so she could have some time alone with Sam, _Derek_ had to be the one to spoil it.

No surprise there, actually.

God. She was so _stupid_! Of _course_ Derek would interfere. Of course he'd wreck her night. She had been foolish to think that Derek would shut himself up in his room like he normally did when _Sammy, his Sam _was in the house.

They were probably playing Babe Raider again. _She_ was planning to play that with Sam, dammit!

The phone started ringing.

"Casey, can you get it? They're all in my room." Derek shouted through the noise of music and gun shots.

"You expect me to go into _your room_ and get the _phone_?" Casey asked with disgust. "Get it yourself!"

"Sam says 'thanks'," Derek yelled back.

Casey rolled her eyes and opened the door to his room. "How long has it been since he cleaned this pigsty?" she asked herself, trying to step on a clean piece of ground and failing miserably. Shuddering, she took a giant leap to the edge of his bed — wait, was that a picture of the _family_ on _Derek's _nightstand?

The phone kept ringing. "Casey, will you hurry up _please_?" Derek sounded impatient. "The noise is messing with the music!"

"Anything for you, brother dear," she muttered sarcastically. Grabbing the phone, she took two giant steps towards the hall.

"Hello?"

"Hi Casey, it's me," a voice crackled over the phone.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, honey, could you do me a favour? We're a bit lost, and _George_ forgot the phone number." Casey heard an indignant response from who seemed to be George. "He says he left it on the kitchen table. Could you go check if it's there? It's a white, folded piece of paper."

"I'm on it, Mom," Casey said, going to her room. She checked her hair briefly in the mirror, tucked back a few strands, and went down the stairs. She saw Sam watch her come down, letting Derek momentarily beat him. Casey gave him (Sam, not Derek) a warm smile. Her hand brushed lightly against his elbow as she went into the kitchen. She knocked over one of the unlit candles she had set up especially for her and Sam's evening in the process. Derek snickered.

"It's the one that says _Emma Witson_, right?" she asked her mom.

"Yes, that's the one! Does it have a number on it?"

Casey read the phone number aloud over the phone. Nora replayed the digits back to her, just to be sure.

"Thanks, Casey," she said after Casey confirmed that that was the right phone number. "We'll be back home by eleven or so. Don't wait up." The was a soft _click_ and the line went dead.

She put the phone back in its charger and went out into the living room.

"So, which level are you guys on?"

Derek ignored her. "What was that about?" he asked.

"Oh that was just …" her voice trailed off. She had a _brilliant_ idea!

"That was George, and he says he wants you to get some stuff from the Mini Mart."

Derek groaned, and paused the game. He turned around. "Can't you do it?"

"Sorry, Derek, George says he wants _you_ to do it especially. He'll be very upset if you don't. And besides," she flashed him an innocent smile which was purely fake, "I'm supposed to be _studying_."

Derek rolled his eyes. "All right, all right, make me a list."

Grinning to herself, Casey went into the kitchen and scribbled down a few items Derek would have trouble finding in a Mini Mart, plus some stuff that would be _particularly_ embarrassing for a guy to ask for. Just for the heck of it. Besides, the longer he was away, the better.

"Here you go," Casey said as sweetly as possible, placing the list beside the couch. Derek mumbled a reply, having returned to his game.

She hurried upstairs, and went into her room. She closed the door and leaned against it. The music over the sound of muffled voices resumed. Then, sure enough, the game was put to pause again, and she heard a door slamming shut.

Checking herself in her mirror again, she took a deep breath, grabbed a lighter, and went down the stairs. She saw a part of Sam's slouched figure, his hat bobbing over the couch.

As soon as she reached the foot of the stairs, she flicked a switch, cloaking the living room in darkness.

"Hey!" she heard a voice say. She saw Sam groping around in the dark. Without making a sound, she went over to the two candles she had placed on the stand beside the couch and struck up a match. "I thought he'd _never_ leave," she said, lighting the candles. The aroma of jasmine and lavender floated over the room.

"Cas—"

She cut him off, sitting down beside him on the couch. "Didn't I tell you once that you talk _way_ too much?" she asked, placing her mouth gently over his. For a moment, Sam didn't do anything.

Then, he tried to push her off.

Casey was taken aback for a moment. She _was_ his girlfriend after all.

"_Casey_," he whispered tightly when they broke off, alarmed.

"Shh," she whispered, brushing her lips over his ear. She felt him shudder slightly and smiled to herself. "Derek won't be back for an hour at least. I made _sure_ of that."

"No, I—"

She cut him off again, kissing him harder. She felt him struggle, but _she_ was the one on top here. Why was he struggling so much, anyway? No matter. She would just have to show him how much experience Casey McDonald had.

She bore her full weight on him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pushing him closer, deepening the kiss, letting her tongue run over his lips, begging entrance into his mouth. Sam, again, did nothing for a while … and then, slowly, he responded, returning the kiss gently at first and then full force.

She relaxed against him. They were meant for each other – she fitted perfectly against him, her body enveloped in his. _I forgot how good of a kisser he was_,she thought as she ran her hands through his hair. Did it get shorter somehow? No. She couldn't remember it _looking_ cut. She was probably imaging things. They _did_ make out only a couple of times, anyway. She just had to get used to the feel of him against her. And the way he smelled of peppermint, cinnamon, and _Axe_ Bodywash. It made her dizzy and giddy at the same time. It was so — _so unlike Sam!_

That was when his face came into the candlelight. His hair _did_ get shorter. And it wasn't blonde; it was brown!

With a yelp, she jumped off the couch. No! It couldn't _possibly_ be.

"_Derek?_"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Like? Hate? Review please. I'll accept anything (I'll love you if you give me criticism) so long as it isn't a flame. :)

**Disclaimer: **Is this even necessary? If you don't know the meaning of _fan_fiction, now would be a good time to find out.


	2. One Big Mistake

**Little Lie, Big Lie**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**Chapter Two: One Big Mistake**

Casey's face was deathly pale, but nobody could tell by the flickering candlelight that shot shadows across her face. "What are you … you're Sam …." She couldn't seem to form proper sentences.

_Oh my god, this did _not_ happen. This is _not happening Those were the only two thoughts that came to mind as Casey walked toward the light switch. Maybe this was a dream … maybe that really _was _Sam on the couch. Maybe if she turned on the lights, everything would go away, and Sam would be sitting right there, and she would sigh in relief, realising that she had only imagined things. Of course, then, she'd have a lot of explaining to do as to why she called him 'Derek', but that would be far easier than him actually _being_ Derek.

Eagerly she turned on the lights and spun around, but her enthusiasm deflated quickly. Still on the couch (although now sitting up) was Derek, blinking in confusion.

_He's confused? At least he _knew _that was me he was kissing! _Casey's anger flared, and all her confusion and frustration and overwhelming sense of guilt make her want to sit down right there and have a good cry.

No. She took in a deep breath. She would _not_ cry in front of Derek.

Right now, there was only one question that came to mind. "_Why_ are you wearing Sam's hat?" she asked, coming over and yanking it off Derek's head. "In fact," she said, regaining her tongue very quickly, "what are you doing here anyway? You're supposed to be at the Mini Mart!"

"Well, you see, about that," Derek said, chuckling nervously, "me and Sam had a bet that whoever got to a million points faster would go to the Mini Mart. Now, _Sam_, oh, he's good, but he's more concerned about getting to higher levels, which is why he gets the best high scores in the end. But _me_, I'm more of a treasure guy. Sammy never knew what hit him."

"So you sent _Sam_ to the Mini Mart?" Casey yelled. "Don't you have _any_ sense of compassion towards your best friend. Or, at least, enough so that you _wouldn't_ make him go and do the shopping for _our_ house by himself?"

"You're slow, you go," he said matter-of-factly.

Casey felt like slapping him. "You obnoxious jerk," she screamed, "don't you care about anyone but yourself? Don't you have an inch of sensitivity? _Anywhere_?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe if I was a _girl_—"

"Oh, good thing you aren't, or else you'd give us a bad name. You don't even care about what just happened! At least if you can't show any sympathy for me, remind yourself that you backstabbed Sam!"

"Look," Derek said angrily, "I don't know what your problem is. _You're_ the one that came on to _me_, and I _tried_ to push you off!"

But Casey wasn't listening. She was already running up the stairs.

Derek watched her go. She was probably going to sit in her room and cry all day. He could already tell she wanted to cry by how thickly her voice came out.

Women. Always so emotional.

Sighing, Derek turned on the TV, cruising through the channels. It was no use. He couldn't concentrate.

That's when it finally hit him.

_I just made out with Casey._

_My Sammy's Casey._

_My _sister_ Casey._

What the hell was wrong with him? Why didn't he try harder to push her off? It was like … making out with Marti! He just committed incest.

_Well, _technically_, it wasn't incest because we don't share the same blood. _And technically, he _didn't_ backstab Sam, because he _did_ try to push her off. Besides, what was a guy to do when a girl was practically forcing her tongue into your mouth? He hated to admit it, but Casey was a pretty good kisser. Her technique was more refined than most of the girls at school. Where _did_ she get her experience from?

An image, unbidden, came to mind of all the girls Casey had been staying with at that private boarding school, showing each other a few tips of the tongue. He shuddered. Gross.

_Hot_, another part of his mind argued.

_Probably_. _But so unlike Casey._

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that sent chills up his spine. What if Casey told someone? It would be over the whole school in minutes! He'd lose his reputation faster than the time it took for Babe Raider's hand grenades to blow up.

He turned off the TV, and strained his ears. Sure enough, he could hear Casey talking to someone.

_No_, he thought, running up the stairs, praying that she was just talking to herself, and wasn't on the phone. _No, no, no! Please don't let her have told anyone yet!_

The door to Casey's room flew open. Casey looked up at him annoyed. "Hold on, Em," she said into the phone, "My lovely stepbrother just barged into my room. Again." She then covered the speaker part.

"_What_?" she asked.

In three quick steps, he went over to her bed, grabbed the phone, and clicked the 'Off' button.

"What is your _problem_?" she asked, standing up and trying to grab the phone back from Derek. "Haven't you had enough already?"

"You are not telling anyone that this happened. Ever." He raised the phone high above his head.

"Why? You didn't care about any of this an hour ago, so why do you care now?" She tried to grab it, but he brought it down behind his back. Casey tried to get it from him, but he kept turning around.

Derek laughed. "Are you crazy? If word gets out that Derek Venturi and Casey McDonald made out—"

"Oh, so this is to save your _reputation_? Figures you wouldn't care about anybody but yourself. _Will you just give me back the flipping phone?_"

"No," he said. "And who do you want me to care about? You? What reputation do you have?"

Casey crossed her arms over her chest. "A reputation for not associating with people like you."

Derek laughed out loud. "Well, that's a pretty easy one to keep, since people like me would never _associate_ with people like you anyway."

"Will you just give me the phone back?" Casey said. "The only person I'm telling is Emily—"

"_No_."

"She's my best friend!" Casey argued. She faked a left, and when Derek turned right, she grabbed the phone from behind his back.

Derek smirked. "Fine, you can tell her. But guess who _my_ best friend is."

Casey stared in horror. "You wouldn't."

"I would. Besides," he said, mocking her in a lovesick, baby voice, "I thought you and Sammy had no secrets from each other."

The doorbell rang.

"Speak of the devil," Derek said, grinning evilly. He turned around, walking down the hall.

"Derek!" Casey yelled. "If you mention a _word_ to him—"

"It's your choice, Casey," he said over his shoulder.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thank you for all the lovely reviews. (Eleven under twenty four hours! You guys are too good to me.) I'm glad everyone enjoyed it. Again, if anyone has any constructive criticism, please do tell. I love criticism more than anything. :) 

Also, I am in no way prejudiced against homosexuality; I'm just writing it the way a normal 15-year-old boy would think.


	3. Only a Dream

**Little Lie, Big Lie**

_By Aislinn Cailin _

**Chapter Three: Only a Dream **

Edwin and Lizzie came back at around nine from their trip to the amusement park. Casey heard her name being yelled repeatedly, but she was too tired and too exhausted to answer.

"Casey?" Lizzie said, knocking on the door.

"Come in," the elder girl called weakly. Lizzie closed the door behind her when she came in.

"You can't believe how much fun we had! Edwin told me our school does this _ever year_. We should have moved—" Lizzie stopped in mid sentence. "Casey, what's wrong?" she asked, seeing her sister's bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face for the first time.

"Nothing," Casey lied. She tried to smile, but it came out ruefully. "So what happened? Something about moving here?"

"Casey, why won't you tell me what's wrong? You never talk to me anymore. And anyone in their right mind can see you've been crying." Lizzie crossed her arms and sat down with a determined grimace on her face. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what happened."

Casey's temper started to rise again. "Lizzie, _please_, I _really_ don't want to talk about it."

"That's hard to believe. You love talking to people, admit it. Or else you wouldn't go see your guidance counselor all the time."

Casey toyed with her the edge of her mattress. Lizzie was right; that was the reason she had called Emily in the first place. To talk. Her mind was a jumble of confusion and despair and sadness and hopelessness and even the tears didn't help bleed it out. She glanced at Lizzie again, who had not moved a muscle from where she had been sitting. Her little sister could be as determined as she was when she wanted to be.

"All right, fine," Casey said resignedly, "But you have to _promise_ not to tell _anybody._"

Lizzie held up her pinky finger. "Swear."

Casey sighed. Where should she begin from?

---

Edwin almost choked on the sandwich he was eating. "You tongued _Casey_?" he asked between mouthfuls. He then started to cough, sending up flying pieces of half chewed lettuce and bread all over Derek's room. "_You're sick!_" Edwin said, gasping for breath when he finally cleared his throat.

"Hey, _she _kissed _me_," Derek protested. "Besides, she wouldn't lay off! She was lying straight on top of me with her mouth on mine. What do you want me to do?"

"You kissed her _back_?" Edwin looked sadly at Derek, like a father disappointed at his child. "Derek, you just broke the biggest male code of all."

"I know," Derek snapped. "I'm the one who told you about it. Remember?"

Edwin shrugged, and went back to his sandwich.

Derek watched his brother eating and felt a twinge of jealousy. _Lucky kid. Bet he never has to go through stuff like this._ "So what do you think I should do?" he asked. "Should I tell Sam?"

Edwin chewed his next bite thoughtfully. "Well, chicks like Casey—"

"Casey is not a 'chick'," Derek said, annoyed. Somehow, talking about Casey as if she was any other girl made things worse; the last thing he wanted to do was to look at Casey in the same way he looked at them.

Edwin gave him an odd look. "Okay, fine, g_irls_ like Casey are probably all in their honesty-is-the-best-policy thing."

"... and it's better that he heard it from me than from her. Yeah, I taught you that too."

"Look, if you're not going to take any advice from me, at least pretend to."

Derek shrugged. "I taught you everything you know, little buddy." He laid down on his bed, resting his hands behind his head and letting his thoughts wander. Tell Sam? That was the last thing he wanted to do. He would rather let Casey do it. She was the emotional one. She could probably make him feel sorry for her. But that was just it: she would make Sam feel sorry for _her._ She'd probably blame the whole thing on Derek. He suspected she already did anyway.

"This is so messed!" Derek punched his pillow. "Casey's going to blame the whole thing on _me_! And Sam would probably take her side anyway. He's so lovesick that he'd probably take a boulder in the face for her. Can you believe it? They've been going out for _three_ weeks. The guy has no respect for other babes."

"Hey, some of us like a little time with our girls." Edwin said. He took a swig of his cola. "Not our fault you only go for lips."

"Edwin, Edwin, my innocent little Edwin" Derek chastised, "haven't I taught you _anything_? The longer you're with a girl, the less time you have with the next one."

"Right. Speaking of girls, how _was _your make-out session with Casey anyway?"

Derek narrowed his eyes. "Why? You planning to take a shot next?"

Edwin laughed. "Yeah, right after I finish with Lizzie. No, seriously dude, is she any good? How much experience does our dear sister—"

"_Step_sister." Derek corrected. "_Marti_ is my sister. And I don't exactly want to be arrested for incest, Ed."

"Fine, whatever, _step_sister, have?"

Derek ran a hand through his hair, remembering the details all too well. If Casey was any other girl, he would gladly make out with her again. He'd never tell Edwin so, though. Or anyone else, for that matter. In the end, he just shrugged, as if it made no difference to him. "Way more than you, but that's not anything new."

--

Lizzie stared at Casey, dumbstruck. "You didn't!"

"That's what I've been trying to tell myself for the last two hours, Lizzie," Casey said. She flopped down on the bed again, annoyed. Couldn't Derek have said _anything_? One little sentence to let her know that it was him. He could've just yelled out in the dark, but all he said was 'hey'. That Neanderthal. He probably liked it. Probably why he felt no remorse or guilt whatsoever, and why everything was dumped on her. That's the way it always was. She took all the responsibility, while he bailed out on everything. Well, not this time. This time, Derek wouldn't get away with shit.

Even though she had no idea whatsoever how she was going to pull that off. If she wanted to make sure he got in trouble, she'd have to tell Sam, and she definitely couldn't do that. Sam would probably break up with her the minute he heard. What kind of guy would want to date a freak who kissed her brother?

"Couldn't you tell it was Derek?"

"Well, when I realized it was him, I broke it off. That jerk, he always has to leave everything to me! He couldn't just have said one little word that it was him and not Sam. I mean I gave him enough chances to." That wasn't completely a lie. He could've just yelled it out, or pushed her off harder. He certainly didn't have to kiss her back!

Damn he was a good kisser.

_Getting off topic Casey_, she told herself, and refocused on Lizzie.

"So what do you think I should do?" she asked, sitting up. Her little sister was still sitting there dumbfounded.

"I'm still trying to make sense of this ... you kissed _Derek_? That's so gross!"

Casey groaned and laid back down. _Thanks for the help, genius._

"Okay, I'm sorry, it's just ... _wow_. So what happened after?"

Casey wasn't exactly sure herself. It was all a haze of tears and frustration. She could have sworn she had actually yanked a bit of her hair off; she had tried to pull it out so many times. She remembered wanting to scream, and trying to call Emily, and her conversation with Derek (that she remembered all too vividly), and Sam coming home, and him knocking on her door, and her claiming she was sick. It wasn't really hard to pretend with her nose stuffed up and her voice hoarse from sobbing. The rest was a mix of screaming into her various pillows until her throat was sore and punching her bed's headboard with her first until her knuckles were bruised. She told Lizzie all this, trying to make some sense of it along the way.

"You called _Emily_?" Lizzie asked when she was done.

"Yeah, so?" Casey didn't see what the big deal was.

"Uh, Casey, did you forget that Emily _likes_ Derek? She would be mad at you for like a zillion years."

"Well, yeah, but it was just an accident ... " her voice trailed off. Was she even making sense anymore? She had just wanted someone to talk to, someone to help figure out what to do with this mess she had landed in.

"I don't get why you're getting so worked up over this. I mean, by the way Derek talks about girls, kisses are hardly worth panicking about—"

"It is when you have a boyfriend!" Casey snapped.

"Oh, please, Derek has like two girlfriends at the same time. And anyway, it was just an accident."

"Listen to me, Lizzie," Casey said, grabbing her sister by her shoulders and staring straight at her eyes, with a panicked, crazed look on her face. Lizzie knew that look all too well; it had occurred plenty of times when Casey had gotten worked up over a test or an assignment. "I am a good girl. Good girls don't cheat on their boyfriends. And good girls sure as heck don't make out with their stepbrothers!"

"But it was a mistake!" Lizzie pleaded, not sure if she was defending herself or defending Casey.

"_I don't make mistakes this big!_" Casey had finally cracked. "If this was an exam, I would be failing! Do you get it? _I'm failing at life!_" She groaned and grabbed the nearest pillow, smothering her face with it, trying to suffocate herself.

"Casey … " Lizzie said cautiously. She yelled her name again when she realized that Casey had stuffed the pillow to her face for a whole thirty seconds. "Stop it!" she yelled, trying to grab the pillow off Casey's face and failing. "Killing yourself won't do you any good!" Lizzie yanked the pillow back so hard that she tumbled to the edge of the bed and fell down in a heap.

"Oh my gosh, Lizzie, are you all right?" Casey asked, jumping off the bed and hurrying to her sister's side. Lizzie rubbed her head gingerly and nodded. "I am _so_ sorry, do you need anything? An ice pack? Water? Tylenol?"

Lizzie shook her head and sat up on the bed. She would never understand teenagers. One minute, Casey was drowning in her own fury, and the next, she was right by Lizzie's side, nearly obsessing to make her feel better.

"Look, I think we should just drop the subject for now," Lizzie said, massaging her head. "Mom always said a good night's sleep would do you good."

Casey nodded. And maybe, if she was lucky, she would wake up and realise this was all a dream. It _had_ to be a dream right? It was only in dreams where nothing made sense, and everything was turned upside down. It was only in dreams she would mess up this big.

_Yes, this is definitely a dream_, Casey thought later that night as she went to bed. _So why aren't I waking up yet?_

_

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Thank you for all the reviews in the last chapter. :) I apologise for taking so long to update, but I always end up with writer's block (I always have to know what happens in the next chapter before I post the first one).

I also apologise for the excessive use of dialogue in the last chapter; I'll try to steer clear of that for a while after this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and _please _tell me what you think. All reviews are appreciated.

* * *


	4. Lavender

**Little Lie, Big Lie**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**Chapter Four: Lavender**

Derek slept restlessly that night. He kept dreaming about Casey telling Sam what happened, and becoming the laughing stock of the whole school. He found himself running, trying to get somewhere, _anywhere_ away from (what appeared to be) reality, but his past always caught up with him. He even tried to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming, but, as much as the media likes to promote it, pinching yourself in dreams doesn't really work.

He woke up at last at three o'clock in the morning, tried and frustrated. Sleep was the one place he thought he could get away from all his problems, but, evidently, that was not possible.

He didn't sleep for the rest of the night. He was always close – his mind drifted constantly, to the place between consciousness and dreams, the place where your dream-self can see what it imagines, but is still grounded to your body. He saw Sam yelling at him because he was a bad friend, Casey laughing because she had finally managed to ruin his life, Edwin blabbing his secret to the whole world and turning his whole family, even little Marti, against him.

And every time he twitched, every time he kicked his legs unconsciously, every time he shuddered, he would wake up and find himself transported back to the familiar comforts of his room. He did not know whether he was relieved that the dreams were not real, or upset that he could not sleep..

At five o'clock, Derek gave up. He turned on the lamp sitting on his bedside table, and sat up, blinking in the dim light.

_A hot bath,_ was the first thought that came to his mind. He needed some comfort more than anything, especially when he was still drowsy with sleep.

Derek stumbled out of his bed, and shuffled around in his room, grabbing a bathrobe and other necessities. Outside, it was still quite dark, and he had to squint to find some of his items. At the last minute, he decided to take his lamp too; he really didn't want the large amount of light the bathroom's light bulbs provided.

The house was very quiet. All he could hear were soft exhales from deep slumber. He paused outside Casey's door, listening to the sound of her slow, even breathing. She didn't seem to have too much trouble sleeping.

_Probably wore herself out crying_, he thought, tiptoeing away and heading towards the bathroom.

He plugged in his lamp, set the lighting feature on _high_ and turned on the water. It rumbled against the bathtub's cold surface as Derek adjusted the heating and then looked for the plug. After Derek was certain it was securely fitted in the drain, he stripped, took care of any other business, stopped the water when it was a few inches to reaching the tip of the tub, and slipped in.

The heat stung a bit at first, but it was comforting, and Derek got used to it. He adjusted himself, sinking down a bit more, letting the water cover his shoulders. He sighed and wet his face. This was way better than a soft bed.

He hunted around for his body wash – _Edwin probably used it again; I'll pound him _– and found it lying next to a small tube filled with small, purple crystals. That was odd. What were the use of crystals in a bathtub? He turned the bottle around, looking for a label. There it was – _the Body Shop._

_Casey's?_ Derek thought, as he inspected the glass tube, _or Nora's?_ He unscrewed the lid and peered inside, catching a strong aroma.

_Definitely Casey's,_ he thought to him self as he inhaled the scent of lavender. It was her signature scent. He couldn't help grinning like a lunatic as he examined the bottle, but didn't know whether it was because he found something to taunt Casey with, or because the scent was making him high.

But what _were_ they? He tipped the little bottle onto its side, and tapped it gently with his thumb. A few crystals fell out, and when he parted his fingers, they fell through his hands, sinking to the bottom of the tub. They released tiny purple bubbles that scent up puffs of the lavender scent.

He turned the bottle around again, reading the subtext below the label this time.

_Exotic Bath Crystals_, it read. He turned it slightly to read the information on the side. _Relax in your bath with the Body Shop's Bath Crystals and revitalize your body and soul. _

So that's what they were! Some sort of scented bath formula. Derek brought the bottle close to his face again. The smell really _was_ relaxing; he understood why Casey liked it so much.

_Maybe a few wouldn't hurt_, he thought, trying to tip a quarter of the crystals in. Instead, more than a half fell in.

_Oh what the heck,_ Derek thought, looking at the nearly empty bottle, _I'll just blame it on Marti._

He tipped the rest of the contents in and watched as more tiny, violet bubbles were released in the water. Soon, the bathtub appeared tinted and the whole bathroom smelled of lavender.

Derek relaxed for the first time that night, inhaling the luxurious scent. He turned off the water and rested against the back end of the bathtub. Yawning, he wet his face again, enjoying the comfort the warmth and the fragrance were providing him with. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he registered that the scent that now clung thickly to the bathroom smelled entirely like Casey.

He was falling asleep, he knew that now, but he was too tired to get up and do anything about it. The previous night's restlessness finally caught up with him, and the lavender around the room melted his whole body, making it impossible to move.

Derek slowly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Casey running in a field of purple flowers.

---

Casey got up as soon as the first rays of the morning sun filtered through the window shades and warmed her face. She sat up wearily, blinking. Her head ached and her eyes felt strained. Slowly, she remembered the events of the night before

_It doesn't matter now_, she thought, getting up and rubbing her face. _What's done is done and you've had your grief._ Today was her study day, and she wasn't going to let a stupid little kiss throw off her schedule.

She glanced at her alarm clock; it was a few minutes until six. Perfect. She could shower in piece today. That's what she needed right now: a cold shower to release all her impurities from the night before, and start a worry-free, clear-minded day.

Quickly, she grabbed her things and made her way to the bathroom. Pale yellow light glowed from the space between the floor and the door.

"Who could be awake at this hour?" she muttered, annoyed. Even George and Nora slept in on Saturdays. This was throwing off her fresh start.

She knocked on the door. "Hello?"

No answer.

"Hello?" she asked again, hitting the door harder. "Is anybody in there?"

She couldn't _hear _any sounds of water running or someone moving around in the bathroom, but who would lock the bathroom door with the light on?

Casey groaned. This was the _second_ time things weren't going according to plan.

---

Derek awoke to the sound of pounding on the door. He was groggy from getting up so suddenly and his mind barely registered where he was.

_I fell asleep in the tub,_ he remembered, once some of the mists of slumber had disappeared. He looked around, seeing his lamp casting a dim light all over the room. The smell of lavender still hung in the air, but the crystals had dissapeared, and the water was cold.

Someone was speaking to him.

"—ever's in there doesn't tell me who they are _right now_, I really will unlock this door and come inside to find out."

"Casey?" he asked, yawning.

"Derek?" Casey sounded surprised.

"Yeah, what do you want?" He was irritated now. Just when he was getting some sleep, a freak who woke up before noon on Saturdays just _had_ to ruin it.

"Well, gee, it's the bathroom. _What do you think_?" was the sarcastic reply.

"I don't know, watch me take a bath?" Derek got up and pulled the bathtub's plug.

"Wow, you're a _real_ Will Smith," Casey said with fake excitement. "Now, could you hurry up? I have homework to do, and I need to shower first!"

Derek grumbled a reply. _She really needs to have more fun in her life if all she's going to do on a Saturday morning is study_, he thought as he proceeded to rinse himself. Casey, meanwhile, sighed, dumped her clothes on her bed, and went downstairs. Perhaps she could get started on breakfast and leave it to cool while she showered.

She decided on eggs. Casey didn't trust any of the cereals in the house. Sure, Derek might have _his_ kind, but who knew which other box he had gotten his filth into?

_Funny_, she thought, as she cracked some eggs over a heated pan, _everything in this household always centers around Derek: his mess, his immature necessities, his satisfaction … does _nobody_ else have a voice in this family?_

"Some furious cracking going on there." Casey jumped slightly and turned around, annoyed that Derek had startled her.

"Thanks," Casey replied sweetly. "I was thinking of you."

He grinned at her, walking into the kitchen while tightening the sash around his bathrobe. "I know. Most girls constantly have me on their mind." His hair, which was damp from the shower, dripped water onto the floor.

Casey ignored his last comment. "Don't you ever dry your hair? Someone's going to slip on that water."

"Some girls would kill to see me like this," Derek replied coolly, running a hand through his wet hair. He flashed his Derek smile at her – one that Casey was immune to, so she smiled back coldly.

"Well, I'm not _some girl._"

Derek snorted. "Clearly."

Her blue eyes flashed with anger, and she turned around, prepared to ignore whatever rude comment he had to say next. She really didn't need this right now. Couldn't he just leave well enough alone? It was bad enough that the biggest mistake in her life had happened last night – she really didn't need the same person who was responsible for the mistake screwing up her Saturday.

His next comment, though, surprised her.

"Look, Casey," he sighed and sat down, "about last night ... "

Casey, who had been turning the eggs with a spatula, froze.

"Look, we both know it was an accident—"

"Exactly." She spun around, placing the spatula on the counter. "It _was _an accident, so let's just leave it at that."

"Wait, what?" He was confused now. Didn't she like everything out in the open? "I thought you might _want _to—"

"Talk about it?" she smiled at him ruefully. "No, not really. It was a mistake, you know it, and I know it, and nothing's going to happen because of it, so, as far as I'm concerned, it didn't even happen." She turned off the gas on the stove.

"But what about—"

"Derek, I don't have _time_ for this." She needed some way to get him to shut up. "I have to shower, and then get started on this weekend's assignments." She took out a bowl and a fork, scooping some eggs into a bowl. She then picked some up with the fork and blew on it.

"Casey will you just _listen_ to—" a forkful of eggs getting shoved into his mouth cut him off. How did she make them so _good_?

"Here, you can have some of my eggs," she said, setting the bowl down next to him. "Careful, they're hot."

Derek took the fork out of his mouth and said something, but she couldn't hear through his half-chewed breakfast. Instead, she smiled at him, and as she walked past, caught a whiff of lavender — _lavender?_ She stopped at the kitchen door and turned.

"You know," she said, assuming he had used her soap, "if you ever run out of body wash, I'm sure George has a few stacked downstairs."

Derek didn't say anything; instead, he looked down and kept eating.

Casey found this odd, but what she found oddest of all was the fact that his body wash was still half full.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'll give you guys some credit, and hope that you figured out what the whole bath scene was about. :) Anyway, no, the story isn't done yet; they still have to face Sam on Monday, and that's when it'll have a little more action. I know there was _way_ too much foreshadowing in these past few chapters, so I'll try to speed things up after this.

Anyway, tell me what you think. Again, thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! I apologise for the fact that I don't have time to reply to all of them, but I do read all of them, and they're all treasured.


	5. A Little Chill

**Little Lie, Big Lie**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**Chapter Four: A Little Chill**

Contrary to popular opinion, Monday morning did not dawn "bright and early". In fact, it was anything but. Rain clouds littered the sky in thick herds, threatening to spill at any moment. Casey woke to the sound of her blaring alarm clock. The weather mirrored her mood.

During Saturday and Sunday, she had managed to avoid the topic of The Almighty Dreadful Kiss, but Monday was entirely different. Today, she would have to face Sam. Her mind was still a raging battle as to whether or not she should tell him.

_Get a grip, Casey,_ she told herself over and over again, _this isn't some stupid clichéd story a random fifteen year old wrote, where one little kiss affects the whole plot._

It was no use. Every time she tried to think about it, a funny feeling arose in her chest and stomach and she found it difficult to draw in breaths. It was impossible to bring up the topic without panicking. She could keep a clear head in every other topic, but never romance.

_What on earth?_ She kicked herself mentally again. _This isn't even romantic! This is just … Derek._

Why did everything that concerned Derek have to be so confusing?

For the first time in her life, Casey McDonald had procrastinated on a very important issue.

That was when Casey realised there was something worse, something _far_ worse: she would have to explain to Emily why she had called her, sobbing, and why the line went dead a few minutes later. She had hid from the phone during the weekend, but not today. Today, she would have to come to terms with everything she had tried to run away from.

It was funny how one stupid, ignorant, selfish, bone headed, pig brained, vermin of a person could turn a perfectly structured, organized, complete and overall, _perfect _life into something of utter chaos and mayhem in a matter of _seconds_. That was one of the main complications of living with her eldest stepbrother.

Sighing, Casey dragged herself out of bed. Things were never this exciting back home.

But it was not until second period that things _really_ got exciting. Casey, who came to school early and hid herself in the library during morning couldn't hide herself now. There was only one tenth grade French class that semester, and she and Emily were seating partners. Emily constantly gave Casey worried looks, and slipped her a flurry of notes, all which were varied forms of _what's wrong, why were you crying, why did you hang up, _and_ why won't you tell me anything_?

If that wasn't bad enough already, Derek and Sam (along with another array of boys from the hockey team), who were taught Spanish by Casey's French teacher, were all serving detention during their gym period. Usually, this would have been in another classroom, but it was full, and the Language rooms were the biggest rooms in the school. Fate just happened to pick this one.

This would have been the perfect time to tell Emily what had happened, had it not been for Sam shooting her worried looks from the left. With him in the same room, not only was Casey's guilt conscience increasing, but she was paranoid to speak of the incident too. She felt that whatever she wrote down, Sam would be able to read. Heck, she was even worried to _think_ about this in front of him, as if somehow, he could hear all her thoughts. Derek giving her "tell-and-die" glances from behind didn't really help either.

No matter how hard she tried to put all of this out of her mind, Casey found she couldn't concentrate on anything else – especially when the three people involved were caving her with their worried and angry glances. Focusing on the lesson was just as pointless, because she found she couldn't understand a word the teacher was saying – literally.

An hour into the period, she gave up. She didn't _care_ if Emily would get mad. She needed to get rid of some guilt and talk to someone _now_.

Taking out a fresh sheet of paper, she wrote _All right, all right, I'll tell you_, and passed it to Emily. The girl's eyes shot up when she read that and nodded, passing the paper back. Taking a deep breath, Casey began.

She wrote down everything. How she wanted Friday alone with Sam. How she had that idea of getting Derek out of the house. She cringed when she got to the part on the couch. Somehow, putting it in ink made it come true. She remembered that event so clearly that everything else around her faded away, and it got to a point where it was as if she was watching that horrible event from afar. It wasn't until Emily kicked her under the table that Casey noticed Ms. Rodriguez standing right in front of her.

"Have you finally decided to join us, Ms. McDonald?" The gorgeous twenty-five-year-old's face looked absolutely furious. When she had first joined the school, many of the boys in the student body had tried to hit on her, but had backed away when they realised how bad of a temper she had. "I asked you three times to put away that piece of paper. I'm guessing it's not French since we moved on to the oral section, so let's just see what was so important that couldn't wait until after class."

Casey's complexion was as white as snow when her French teacher picked up the paper on her desk. She had never faced the wrath of Ms. Rodriquez but had heard terrifying tales. The worst one she had heard was that the teacher read all of the notes the students wrote aloud.

"Well, this seems to be quite the story." Rodriquez scanned the letter and then cleared her throat.

"_Okay, you have to _promise_ not to get mad,_" she read in a whiny teenage girl's voice. "Oh, so it appears Ms. Davis is involved in this too." She flashed Emily a smile. "Both of you can stay here for detention tomorrow."

"_See, it was an accident,_" she continued in the same high-pitched accent, "_I _swear_ it was. Okay, so it all started on Friday. My Neanderthal of a stepbrother …_"

Casey swallowed when she turned around to face Derek. If looks could kill, Casey would have been slaughtered alive, brought back to life, and brutally murdered again.

She looked at him with the most pleading look she could muster, hating herself for it all the while. Her, asking her loving stepbrother for help. It was the one thing she promised herself she'd never do again in her entire lifetime, seeing how much success (or lack, thereof) all her previous attempts had led to. This was the one exception. Derek wasted no time coming to her aid, obviously to save his reputation more than hers.

"_So when my mom called, I lied and told him it was because they wanted him to pick up the groceries …_"

"Ms. Rodriquez!" he yelled. "So, can we go yet? There's only a couple of minutes left, and growing boys need their food."

The other people in the class snickered. Only Derek Venturi would dream of taking on Rodriquez.

She looked up from Casey's story and flashed Derek an icy smile. "Should've thought of that before you and your hockey buddies came a half hour late to my class, Mr. Venturi."

"But you must try to understand how passionate we are about the sport," he said with an earnest expression which was obviously fake. "You're a sports fan too, aren't you? It's obvious by your … physique." He eyed her up and down, and lingered a little too long _and_ too obviously on her rear end.

The class was on the verge of breaking down in laughter. It was instances like these that made Derek all the more popular.

Rodriquez, however, was not pleased. Casey shivered. She had never seen someone get so mad. "To the principal's office, _now_, Mr. Venturi." Her face was as red as a paprika. "And I'll assure you, you won't be back in class for at _least_ a week, if I have anything to say about it."

"Just trying to give a compliment," he said, getting up and giving her his Derek smile.

"Can it," she snapped, pointing to the door. "Out. Now."

She waited until Derek closed the door behind him before turning back to Casey's letter. Fortunately for Casey, the bell rang by then.

"Well," she said, smiling with fake cheer at Casey, "it seems we didn't have enough time to get to the end of your story."

Casey, whose colour was slowly returning, nodded.

Rodriguez tore the paper into shreds and sprinkled it over the garbage. "Since you have a nearly clean record, Ms. McDonald, I'll let it go. Next time, though, I'll make _sure_ I read the whole work to the class."

Casey nodded again. Even if she dared to speak, words would not have come out. She was the first one out the door when the class was dismissed.

The torment didn't stop there, though. Derek was waiting for her outside. As soon as he saw her, he grabbed her arm and started pulling her to a secluded section of the hallway – a corner between the lockers and the wall. "What is your problem?" Casey tried to yank her arm away, but instead, Derek held on tighter, and dragged her more forcefully.

"My problem?" Derek said, turning on her, fury eminent in his voice. "_My _problem?"

"Yeah, I can walk by myself you know," she said, massaging her wrist.

Derek nodded, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and clasped his hands. "_Please_," he said, his voice deathly quiet, "_please_ tell me that your little note was meant for Nora or Marti or Lizzie or anyone other than Emily."

Casey crossed her arms over her chest. "That's none of your business."

He lost it. "None of my business. None of _my_ business?" He ran a hand through his hair and half-screamed. "How many times did you trip up this morning? There are two people involved in this situation, you know!"

"So?" Casey knew how utterly ridiculous and pathetic she sounded, but she didn't care. "What I choose to tell about my life is up to me. You might control how much peace I have at home, but you're _not_ controlling what I say, Derek."

"You've lost it," Derek said as if that was the plain and simple truth and he had never seen it until now. "All that studying has finally gone to your head."

"If anyone's crazy here, it's you," Casey shot back. "See, the difference between you and me is that I'm a human and humans actually have a conscience!"

"Look," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "If you're going to have a guilt trip, fix it with somebody who _isn't_ part of the student body."

Casey shrugged his hands off, but she didn't back away. Instead, she got her face in his just as much as he had in hers. "Look," she said in the same tone Derek had, "if you're trying to control someone, I'm not your girl."

Derek's face deathly close. "If you tell Emily," he said in a low, furious whisper, "I _will_ tell Sam." He said it with a menacing tone, as if it made all the difference in the world.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." She smiled at him, but it wasn't the cruel smile she had planned on giving. Her hatred had instantly disappeared, and was replaced by a strange sense of light headedness and excitement. It was as if she was waiting for something to happen but didn't know what. Suddenly, she was back at that couch again on the fateful Friday that it happened. The same smell of peppermint and cinnamon and body wash engulfed her, spreading a strange sense of warmth throughout her body. She felt disoriented and dizzy, and _happy_ and didn't know why, but everything was good with the world, and life was perfect, and was she on drugs? She didn't know and honestly didn't care either, it was just _good,_ and it was _right_.

"Derek! There you are, I've been looking _all over_ for you!" A short, skimpy brunette flashed a dazzling all-thirty-four-teeth-clean-and-bleached smile at him. "Oh," she said when she realised that someone else was with him too. Her voice dripped with unhidden disgust, "was I _interrupting_ something?"

It was as if someone had rudely jolted Casey out of a deep sleep. "What?" She stepped back and blinked. That strange scent was still there, but all the warmth had gone, leaving nothing but a cold wind.

"Hannah, hi!" Derek flashed his charming smile again and Casey sneered with disgust. Did he have to do that with absolutely _every_ hot girl he met?

"Hi _Der_," Hannah said affectionately. She twirled a strand of her long brown locks on her index finger. "We were supposed to have lunch together. Or did you forget?" Hannah pouted, obviously trying to look sexy, but Casey just found it pathetic.

"Me?" Derek laughed and put an arm around her. "I've never forgotten a thing in my life."

Casey snorted. "Understatement of the _century_," she muttered.

Derek glared at her. "Hannah, meet my_ stepsister_," he put a great emphasis on the word, "Casey."

For the first time, the small girl showed some warmth at Casey and smiled. "Lucky you."

"Please, I would gladly give up my place for yours."

Hannah and Derek both raised their eyebrows, and Casey realised how inappropriate she had sounded.

"I mean, not to go _out_ with him or anything," she said quickly. "He's my stepbrother. I … I just meant I'd give up my place for yours because I don't like being his stepsister."

Hannah was looking angrier by the minute.

"No, I mean, I don't like—"

"Okay, well, we should get going," Derek said. "Nice talking to you, sis—"

"We aren't finished," Casey snapped.

"Oh yes, we are."

"No, _we're not_." Her expression was just as stern and as unrelenting as his.

"We'll talk about that _later_. I have a life, you know."

Hannah laughed loudly.

Casey smiled at her. "Oh, do _you_ want to know what happened, Hannah? I'm sure you'll find it quite entertaining."

Hannah stopped. "What?"

Derek smiled at the girl. "Excuse us." He hauled Casey out a few feet away from his date.

"You want to obsess over one little kiss—"

"Oh, so now it's _little_?"

Derek ignored her. "— be my guest. But don't cut into my life, especially when I'm with my friends."

"So _this_ is who you turn to when you can't get _real_ friends," Casey said with feigned interest. "Whores."

"Yeah, well, who would ever be friends with an old hag anyway?" Derek said with fake pity.

Casey snorted. "Yeah, like I'm going to believe a word you say. Besides, you didn't have any problem talking about this yesterday."

"That was because we were in our own _house_." Derek's voice had a falsetto lilt to it, clearly showing his anger and agony. "Are you all right?" he added when he saw her shivering uncontrollably.

"Since when do you care?" she snapped. "And when _would_ be a good time to talk about this then? I'm not going to wait around until you're finished dating all the women in the world."

"If you want to talk, talk to me when I'm not _with_ anyone—"

"Hey I was there before your Hannah came skipping along."

"—or I really will tell Sam."

Casey sighed. "Is that all you have against me? Because I can ruin your whole reputation."

"Fine. After school. Now can I _please_ go?"

Casey nodded but only because she was too cold to argue. She walked back to her locker, thinking over what had happened. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find a logical explanation. That was so odd. One minute she was as hot as the sun and the next it was like she was submerged in icy water. The weirdest thing was when her heart pounded uncontrollably, the way it did now. She took in a ragged breath and tried to spin the dial on her lock. She had never experienced anything that warm or good before – except for that time on the …

No! She stopped before she could finish the thought. It was not Derek. They weren't _that_ close together, were they?

Besides, she was pretty close to the wall too. Yes, that was probably it. They probably just repainted the wall during the weekend, and what she was smelling was some strange chemical in the paint. That explained why she felt so high.

Does paint make you feel warm?

_Let it go_, she thought, finally managing to open her locker and depositing her books on the top shelf. She grabbed some lunch money, smoothed out her skirt and made her way to the cafeteria. She would sort out this whole mess after school. At least there was _something_ she could look forward to.

* * *

**Author Note: **Sorry for not updating for so long! This story isn't turning out the way I wanted It to, so I always have second thoughts about writing. I will still try to finish it, but I can't promise you on how good it is. If you have a moment _please _tell me your honest opinions. I don't care if it's good or bad; I just want to know what you think of it, that's all. 

Oh, as for the bathroom scence: there wasn't anything "special" about it; I just hoped you got the foreshadowing and didn't see it as a waste of time. I think I'm too big on little hints like that. XD Sorry if I confused a lot of you!

Thanks for putting up with everything. :)


	6. A Web of Lies

**Little Lie, Big Lie**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**Chapter Six: A Web of Lies**

Casey rushed to her locker at the end of fourth period, her hands tingling with excitement as she turned the lock. _Finally_, she would be able to attain the peace she had so desperately needed since this whole catastrophe began. They would sort the whole thing out right now.

Suddenly, the world went black, and it took her a few seconds to realise that a pair of warm hands were covering her eyes.

"You know," she said, grasping the fingers and trying to pry them apart, "When I said 'talk', I didn't ask you to do anything special. And you can trust — Sam?"

Sam eyed her with a confused expression. "Were you expecting someone else?"

That was when she realised how ridiculous she had been. Had she really thought for a moment that the person who had covered her eyes was Derek?

_You're losing it, Casey,_ she thought. _He doesn't care about you that much yet._

Yet? _Yet_?

She really was losing it.

_Get a hold of yourself McDonald_, she scolded. _You're acting like you're in love with him_.

Her? In love with Derek? Hah! That was a laugh. She didn't even like him as a brother, or even as a friend. How could she even think of going beyond that?

She realised Sam was still waiting for an answer. Forcing a smile, she said, "Of course not!"

"Are you cheating on me?" he asked.

Casey paled. Did Derek already tell him?

Sam saw her expression and chuckled. "I'm kidding, Casey," he said, intertwining his fingers in hers. "You know I trust you completely."

That completely pierced her. She felt like a cruel, evil witch for doing what she did, and even worse for keeping it a secret. She looked down, avoiding his gaze, completely ashamed with herself now. She was such a horrible person! She didn't deserve Sam at all.

"I trust you too," she answered quietly, still looking down. Then, without meeting his eyes, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, hating herself while she did.

_It was just an accident!_ One part of her mind screamed. Casey wanted to believe that part so much. But if it really was just a harmless mistake, why did she have so much trouble telling him? Sam was better than that. He'd understand. So why couldn't she just bring herself to say it? Why weren't the words coming out?

"So what was that whole letter about?" Sam asked while Casey put away her books.

Casey swallowed. "What letter?"

"The letter in French. Is that why you were acting weird on Friday? I didn't really buy the whole 'I'm sick' thing."

_So much for complete trust_, Casey thought with a twinge of annoyance.

Sam was still eyeing her with a worried expression. Casey felt herself being trapped in again. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't tell him what happened … she had to talk it out with Derek first. And she couldn't tell Sam that either because then he'd know she was hiding something.

She told him the first thing that came to her mind.

"It was Emily's necklace," she said quickly.

"Emily's necklace?" Sam repeated.

Casey nodded.

"All right … so, what happened?"

Now the words were coming up, words spun from lies.

"Oh, well, you see, Emily gave me this _beautiful_ eighteenth-century half-a-heart locket for my birthday, as a sign of our friendship. Well, after you went out, I yelled at Derek. Can you believe how selfish he is, sending _you_ to get _our_ grocery shopping done? He doesn't even deserve to be called a 'human'." At least that part wasn't a lie, if not the entire truth.

"Well," she stammered on, "I showed it to him, showed him how good friends me and Emily were." She couldn't believe it. How were the lies coming out so fast? She usually had trouble with not telling the truth, but now the story spun of its own accord, with her just acting as a speaker.

"Well, Derek laughed at that and he grabbed the necklace and told Marti to flush it down the toilet."

Shoot! She had forgotten that George and her mother had taken Marti when them. Sam didn't seem to notice though, so she gulped and finished lamely, "I just didn't want her to be mad."

But Sam wasn't paying attention to her anymore. He was looking over her shoulder, wide eyed. Casey turned around too, and saw a hurt face staring at her.

"That necklace was a family heirloom," Emily said quietly. "My grandmother got it from her best friend, who gave it back to her through her Will when she died."

"Emily, I can ex—"

"That necklace meant so much to me, Casey. How could you?" She turned on her heel and walked away.

It tore Casey apart to see Emily so hurt. And she didn't even _have_ to be hurt, because the necklace was still around Casey's neck! How had one little lie become so huge?

"Emily, wait!" Casey yelled, running after her. She turned around for a quick second, cast an apologetic glance at Sam and resumed her chase, going through the large wooden doors Emily had gone through only a few minutes ago.

The sky was still overcast, and Emily was nowhere to be seen. At the last minute, Casey saw her getting on the transit. She called to her, but her friend was already on the bus. She suspected Emily would not have replied anyway, even if she had heard.

Oh, life was just _perfect_. Her best friend was mad at her, she had to lie her butt off to her boyfriend, and, to really have the cherry on a lousy day, Derek was nowhere in sight.

Casey went back inside to her unclosed locker; Sam was still waiting there. As soon as she got there, he started talking about plans to go out, since they hadn't seen each other since last Friday. Hastily, Casey cancelled, saying she had far too much homework. She left out the part about how eager she was to get home and yell at her older stepbrother.

They took the transit home. Sam got off far before her stop, and though she hated to admit it because she knew she shouldn't be feeling this way, she was grateful he left so soon. It gave her time to think, and really, the only two things she wanted right now was either some time alone, or the chance to talk to Derek.

A few stops before hers, two girls got on, two she thought who went to her school. Their voices and laughter floated up, their noise far beyond anyone else's on the bus.

"I can't believe Shawn Rollop's throwing a party on a Monday," one of the girls said, checking her hair in a compact mirror. "I still think it's weird."

"You _know_ how desperate he was to have a party all year, and apparently, today's the only day his parents are away."

"And I have too much homework. I wouldn't even be going if everyone who was anyone wasn't going."

Casey tuned out the girls after that. Fantastic. Derek wasn't home after all.

---

So far, Derek had spent fourteen minutes in heaven with three girls.

Yes, two of them weren't the best kissers, but the third one … girls like her were one of the reasons why he _loved_ the childish game of spin-the-bottle.

The last couple who had gone were just coming out of the closet when the doorbell rang again. Normally, he wouldn't have paid attention, but when he saw who came in, his stomach clenched.

Casey.

Oh, fuck.

He couldn't even hide because their game was in the middle of the large hall she just stepped into.

She was scanning the room, and her eyes locked on his in a second. She lightly brushed aside Shawn Rollop, and then made her way towards him.

"All right, Derek, your turn," said a flirtatious female voice. Absent-mindedly, he spun the bottle, but he was too preoccupied with watching Casey come toward him. She got there when the bottle landed on one of the guys.

"Having fun?" Casey asked, disgust thick in her voice.

"Can we help you?" Joanne Johnson – the girl who told Derek it was his turn – gave Casey an entirely forced smile. "Spin again," she whispered in Derek's ear.

Regaining his confidence – at least for the time being; this would be a perfect opportunity to embarrass his stepsister in public, _again_ – he smirked.

"Yep, you should try it sometime. Get a bit more experience."

"Oh," said Joanne, annoyance obvious in her voice, "isn't that a shame?"

For a moment, Derek thought she was referring to Casey, but that was when he saw the bottle. Almost as if it had heard, the bottle's tip was pointing directly at his stepsister.

"I'm not making out with her!" Derek protested. "She's my stepsister."

The guys who were playing snickered. One of them nudged him and pulled him up. "Too bad. And since you guys aren't blood-related, it's not incest."

"Wait, what?" Casey asked as someone else pushed her along to a dingy little closet. "I wasn't even playing!"

"Oh well, kissing won't kill you," a voice answered.

She tried to fight back, but she was still jostled along and almost thrown in the closet with Derek right beside her. The door was slammed in their faces, and some heavy weight outside kept Casey from opening it.

"Leave it." The closet was so small that she could feel Derek's breath on her face. "There are _really_ big guys are standing against it."

"We're not making out in here!" Casey yelled, pounding against the door.

She heard laughing. "All right, wait it out for fourteen minutes."

"Yeah, you have a _lot_ of room in there," someone else said sarcastically.

Casey wanted to scream. Was the whole world against her?

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm very, very sorry I haven't updated for such a long time. I'll try to do it more often, now that it's finally the break. 

Please do review; I'd really like to know what you think, be it good or bad. :)

Happy Holidays everybody!


	7. Confrontation Or is it?

**Little Lie, Big Lie**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**Chapter Seven: Confrontation. Or is it?**

Casey banged her sore fist against the door again, though her optimism of someone actually coming and opening the door was dying slowly.

"This is imprisonment!" she yelled. "Just watch if I don't have my stepfather, _who's a lawyer_, file a lawsuit for this!"

All she heard from the other side were chuckles and another sarcastic response. The door wouldn't open for another dozen minutes and she knew it.

Sighing, Casey slumped against the closet door, her head resting on it gently. She felt like she was suffocating in here, dying away in an old closet with the musky smell of old leather and damp fibre. She heard – or perhaps felt, because the closet was so small – Derek shuffling about, his body touching hers at every move or turn. Finally, he settled down at one end of the closet. Casey did the same at the other end; their faces were hardly two meters apart, and their legs were practically on top of each other's. It was the only way to sit with a bit of comfort.

"This is all your fault," Casey spat.

She couldn't tell that he was rolling his eyes from the darkness, but guessed as much from the slight pause. "Oh here we go with the 'Blame-Derek' game again. What is it this time? 'Oh, you're such a filthy pig!' 'If you only had _some_ consideration for those around you!' Blah blah blah … So what's new with you, Casey?"

Casey turned around, which sent a whack of brown hair flying in Derek's direction.

"Watch it," he snapped. "I'm just as pissed about this at you are. Keep your hair to yourself."

Casey glared at him. "Oh so now it's _my_ fault we're stuck here?"

"A: I never said that. B: Now that you mention it, yeah, it kind of is. I'm not the one who followed me to an uninvited party."

"Well _maybe_ if you stayed after school like you were _supposed_ to —"

"And do what?" Derek demanded. "'Talk'? Okay, since we're both here, go ahead. _Talk_."

Casey was at a loss for words. "Well, I —" she began.

"You what?" He pushed her legs aside. "You're going to 'ruin my reputation'? Go ahead. I don't give a crap anymore, I'll just deny it and say you're just some lame wannabe who's _dying_ to make out with me. Then you'll see how bad your rep can really get."

"I'll tell Sam," she threatened.

Derek laughed. "Go ahead! Who do you think he's going to believe? The guy who's been his best friend for ten years —"

"Or his _girlfriend_, who doesn't have a history of lying to him?"

"What are you going to tell him anyway? If it's the 'truth' and you're going to play little Miss Innocent-and-perfect, you're in this as deep as I am."

"Which is _why_ I said we should talk about it!" Casey yelled.

"Keep your voice down," Derek said in a heated whisper. "And talk about _what_? What exactly do you want to say to me? You're sorry? This was a big mistake? Don't you think I know that? What else is there to talk about, Casey? We're both threatening to blackmail each other so much that it doesn't even matter who does what anymore!"

Casey grudgingly accepted that Derek was right. But he wasn't finished.

"And anyway, if this was so 'little', why do you have such a hard time telling Sam? And if it's big, why do you have such a hard time saying the things you've apparently been _dying_ to talk about?"

Damn. He really had her there.

The chattering grew outside.

Casey looked down. What _could _she say? And, then, as if she had been possessed, all the thoughts she had been holding in came out.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm just so … confused about all of this. I _want_ to tell Sam, and Emily, and the whole damn world, because it was such a big accident, and I don't like holding secrets this big, especially when it affects everyone we care about but it's not that big of a deal is it? Like, it's just going to blow over in a couple of months, right? And we won't even remember anything that happened? It was just a little kiss for god's sakes, it's not like we had sex or anything! But every time I see Sam, or Emily, or even our _parents_ for that matter, it just feels like I've done this horrible, heinous crime, or committed incest or something like that.

"And I'm not like you!" she said, cutting him off before he had the chance to speak. "It might not be a big deal to you, and maybe I am making it bigger than it is, but I'm _loyal_ … and, and _honest_, and integrity matters to me, much more than you could ever know. And I don't like being confused! I like things to be logical and orderly, and maybe I am a bit old-fashioned, but I like structure, and I hate it when things don't make sense! And this sure as hell, does _not_ make sense!"

Casey sighed and ran a hand over her face. "Why did this happen to me? I'm a good person, I do good in the world, I do my homework every night, I'm nice to Lizzie and mom and Edwin and —"

"Everyone but me?" Derek asked wryly.

Casey looked up and smiled. "I do try to be nice to you, Derek. Well, whenever I can. It's just hard because you're so aggravating!"

Derek snorted lightly. "You're telling me."

"What?" Casey asked, surprised. "What on earth could I do to you that annoys you?"

"Well, when you keep nagging at me for one thing."

"Is this before or after the times you bug me for no reason whatsoever?"

"Oh, come on, that's just for fun. It's funny to see you mad."

"Why?"

Derek grinned. "Because you're the only one who can actually fight back and get in trouble too. If I fight with Marti or Edwin, Dad always yells at me because I'm older and 'should know better'."

"You _should_ know better," Casey pointed out.

"Yeah, but what's wrong with a bit of sibling rivalry once in a while? It's fun."

Casey shrugged. "I guess. But is this fun to you? What I'm going through now?" she asked bitterly. "Did you do this on purpose just to see my reaction?"

All the loathing that had disappeared a few moments ago suddenly returned.

Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Casey, you have my word that I didn't create this mess on purpose —"

"Oh, that means a lot. Thanks," she said sarcastically.

"What do you expect me to do?" he snapped. "Apologise? Beg for mercy? I've been waiting for you to _talk _about this, but all you've done so far is yell at me." His expression softened for a bit. "Look, if you want to tell Sam, go ahead. Seriously, do it.

Casey groaned and titled her head back, her head sticking into the pungent coats above. She could smell almost every type of deodorant a teenager male could ever use.

"How much time has it been?" she asked.

Derek shrugged. "Seven, eight minutes? I dunno."

"Aren't you the one who usually plays this game? Shouldn't you instinctually know how much time has passed or something?"

"Yeah, but I'm too busy to notice," Derek answered wryly.

Casey gave him a sour look. "My respect for you just keeps going higher and higher …"

Derek ignored that comment. "That reminds me. Even if we didn't really do anything, we should probably look like we did."

"Are you crazy?" Casey whispered heatedly. "The whole point of the cover up for what we _did_ do was so that word doesn't get out we did it."

"Yeah but if everyone else thinks we didn't do it in here, they'll make me do something else."

"Your loss."

"Or worse: stick us in here for longer."

Derek heard the music through the closet doors clearly.

"They wouldn't," Casey whispered after some time.

"They would."

"I refuse to be locked in here any longer."

"You 'refused' before. Didn't' work."

Casey grumbled for a bit before finally giving in. "_Fine_! How's this?" She shook out her hair and ran her hands through it.

"Do it a bit more."

She shook her head from side to side, occasionally whacking Derek with her brown locks. She rubbed her hair again, and frowned slightly at how rugged it must look.

"No, no, stop, you're not doing it right." Derek grabbed both her wrists and pulled them down. "You just look like you shook your hair from side to side."

"Which _is_ what I did," she muttered.

"Here, I have more experience with this." He didn't miss the way she raised one delicate eyebrow and then relaxed in defeat. He hovered a hand above her head a moment before placing it on her head lightly, and pushing his fingers into her hair.

Casey was amazed by how delicately he ran his hands through his hair; she didn't expect such gentleness from him. Even when he bunched up her hair or tangled his fingers in it, he did it in a smooth, almost practiced movement. He knew just the right places that made her sigh, and she let out a small gasp when he moved closer and slipped a hand down the back of her shirt to take out any excess strands.

She was acutely aware of all the places they touched; how her breasts were pushed against his chest, how his hands almost seemed to be holding her by playing with her hair on her back, how her hands, without any direction from her, had somehow sneaked up to his shoulders before trailing gently up the side of his face before digging into _his_ hair.

He didn't stop, and Casey didn't think she knew how. Her heart beat against her ribs in a wild frenzy. _What am I doing? Stop! Stop!_ But no, she couldn't.

And then, she was paralyzed. His face loomed ahead in front of hers, and his eyes – oh, those gorgeous, gorgeous eyes – held such a look of confusion, and passion, and oh, God, what were they _doing_?

She averted her eyes and looked down, at something over her shoulder. And that was when she felt his warm breath, so close to her. And, before the goosebumps had a chance to set in, his hot, burning lips press against her cheek.

Her whole world came crashing down. Again.

* * *

**AN: **Heheh, HEY GUYS! Um I totally DID NOT abandon this story, just forgot about it for a while. No, honestly, my writing has gotten horrible these days, and I'm not into LWD as much as I used to be. BUT, I will honestly promise to finish this off, no matter how shitty it eventually turns out, because I seriously need to stop ditching stories.

I'm not going to give you a timeframe for an update, because I never stick around to it, but a month at least … if I'm really into it, I'll try doing it quickly, but UM . YEAH.

Oh, but positive note: I've finally gotten to the actual climax-buildup of this thing. I'm thinking this should be done in about another five, six chapters? Or maybe four. Somewhere around there.

Okay, reviews:) I know, way too much dialogue in this one. Probably a lot of dialogue in the next one too, but after that, it should balance out a bit.

Oh, and apologies again, if it seems rushed. The first part was done quite a while ago, but after that, I just wanted to get this damn chapter out. I was actually planning on adding more, but then it'd be too big. I'll probably edit this later (just text and dialogue, no content), but until then, I'm too lazy.

PHEW! Okay, done author note! Now can scuttle off and scribble more!


	8. Dare

**Little Lie, Big Lie**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**Chapter Seven: Dare**

Casey inhaled a staggering breath.

Then, before she could get a word out, the door was thrown wide open, and a light far too bright spilled into the closet.

"So, what do you think?" A gruff voice asked. "Did they do it?"

A face peered with charcoal black hair peered down at Casey, and scrutinized her appearance. Then, it turned to look at Derek, who had resumed to sitting at the other end of the closet. She was bewildered to see how frustrated he looked, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"Nah," said the person, straightening. He smirked. "I think they just tried to fake it."

Someone snickered and addressed Derek. "Dude, I can't believe you actually backed out."

Rolling his eyes, Derek stepped out of the closet. "Hello? Anybody realize she's my _sister_?" It unnerved Casey to see how casually he said it, as if the last few minutes hadn't transpired at all.

"Step-sister," someone corrected.

"Same difference."

Then, Casey was left alone. She didn't want to leave. Right now, all she wanted to do was lock herself in again and have a good cry.

_Idiot, you can't cry in someone else's closet._

Reluctantly, she pulled herself up and stepped out too. It felt pretty good to leave the musky scent of old boots and leather jackets.

Casey rifled through her current options. She could either stay here, which would be a complete waste of time, and hang around after Derek until he finally gave in. Or, she could go home, clear her head, and ambush him when he got home, demanding an explanation.

She allowed herself one look at Derek. He was still the center of attention in his group's spin-the-bottle game. Suddenly, she remembered what he had said: that he would have to do a dare if they didn't convince the others enough.

Curiosity overtaking any common sense, Casey slowly made her way to the group. Some of the people were arguing over dare choices.

"Kiss the floor," someone suggested.

"That is _so_ overdone," one of the girls protested. "Can't you think of anything original?"

"Like what?" the guy who had spoken challenged. "What's your great idea?"

The girl paused and thought. "Hit on Ms. Rodriguez?"

Derek snickered. "Like I haven't done that a _million _times already."

"Lose a hockey game on purpose!" someone said.

Derek laughed. "Not on your life."

"Jump off a building!"

Half the girls in the group screamed "No!" vehemently.

Derek grinned. "Yeah, make me do something so I can actually live to have the glory."

One of the guys snickered. "Fine, jump off a _car_ then."

Again, there was a murmur of disagreement, but not quite as loud as the one before. Derek shrugged. "Sure, if that's what you want. It's not very hard or anything."

"Geeze Derek, always have to pretend to be the daredevil," someone commented sarcastically. Casey's snicker of agreement went unnoticed.

"What are you talking about?" Derek argued. "I'm not pretending, it's just a very lame dare."

"Fine. Jump off a _moving_ car then," someone challenged.

There was a collective agreement throughout the male population, but the girls all exchanged glances, turning their gaze on Derek. Casey focused on him too. He was in a relaxed stance, leaning back with his hands supporting him off the floor, but his eyes were far away. He was thinking about it. She could tell that he was thinking about it.

After what seemed like a very long time, he finally refocused on the group. "All right."

Casey felt a cold chill tingle down her spine.

"No!"

She looked around to see who had spoken, and then realized that all eyes were on her.

"Say what?" one of the guys asked.

It took her a moment to recover. "Derek, you can't!"

His gaze – that ridiculous, arrogant gaze, one eyebrow raised and his lips curled in an upward smirk – sent more shivers down her spine, but this had nothing to do with the fear.

"Gee Casey, I didn't think you cared," he said casually. But she felt as if he was taunting her, as if he was waiting for her to make a slip up.

"Of course I care!" she snapped. "Who do you think George and Nora are going to get to baby-sit you when you snap your neck with your heroic feat?"

She glanced around the rest of the group, and knew she had hit a chord with the girls. They exchanged more worried glances too, and it relieved her to know that even if Derek wouldn't listen to her, he might at least listen to one of the othe girls.

"She's right, you know," said a redhead slowly. "You could get really hurt, Derek." There were some murmured 'yeah's and 'you shouldn't's.

"Ladies, ladies," Derek said, turning reluctantly to look at the rest of the group. "You're mistaking me for Klutzilla here. I won't get hurt, I promise."

"Since when do your promises mean anything?" Casey argued, ignoring the insult. Some of the guys laughed.

Derek turned back to her, calm and composed, but she could tell he had already up his mind. It was then for the first time that Casey felt an actual shred of real, untamed fear.

---

"Derek!" Casey yelled shrilly. The clouds roiled ahead, as if to mirror her mood. "You can't do this! I won't _let_ you."

Derek ignored her and kept walking. She was testing his patience, he knew that, but he couldn't help grinning whenever she expressed such concern. It almost spurred him on, in a masochistic sense, as if by inducing pain on himself, he knew that she would care for him more. The thought unnerved him, but he dismissed it as another one of his ways to torture Casey. If he could agonize her by making himself hurt, that opened up a whole new can of worms.

Of course, the fact that she had done this throughout the whole party did not make him too enthusiastic. After a while, he could feel everyone around him getting tired of it, although he never did for some odd reason. He laughed out loud when someone told Casey to shut the f— up, but it never bothered him. It didn't bother him as much as it should.

"Derek!" she yelled again. He could hear her skinny stilettos clacking along on the sidewalk, which gave him a huge advantage, because that meant she couldn't walk or run nearly as fast as he could. The rain started to pour steadily now, and he wondered how long it would take before she slipped and fell. He gave her a count of ten seconds.

"I'll tell Nora and George!" She threatened.

Ten, nine ...

_I can lie_, he thought mentally.

"Or Sam! Sam wasn't at the party, but he'll probably stop you!"

Eight, seven ...

_Sam won't even care. He'll probably help me sneak out of the house._

"And Emily! You wouldn't want to break Emily's heart would you?"

Six, five, four ...

_You can't stop me, so why do you think Emily will?_

"If you break your leg, you'll be off hockey for a week!"

That did stop him. Damn, she had a good point.

"Remember when you had crutches! You'll actually need — ah!"

Startled, he turned around, and saw her lying on the pavement, half-sprawled on the ground. Oh, he had forgotten to count the rest.

For a moment, he actually felt a shred of sympathy. Her hair was matted and wet from the rain, her legs and skirt were spattered with mud, and her bag had drooped off her shoulders, lying on the ground, almost as tattered as she was.

He sighed and walked back over, extending a hand. "I don't know why you of all people wear high heels."

A strange, gargled sound escaped her throat. Alarmed, he stared down at her more intently.

"Are you crying?"

"No," she said, blinking. "It's just the rain." She took his extended hand – hers were so cold, he realized, and felt a twinge of regret for making her walk out here by herself – and pulled herself upwards. With the stilettos, she was almost his height.

"Look Derek," she began slowly, "I'm really sorry about this. I swear I did it for your own good."

"What do you —"

A fist came at him out of nowhere, and suddenly the world went black.

* * *

**A/N:** No promises, except that I _will_ finish this. I'm really sorry guys, I have every intention to write, but I never pull through! Bah. 

I can guarantee this will go into 2008. And I'll definitely _try_ to get a chapter out during Christmas break.


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